


Vampires and Assassins

by Assassin_Weakness



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Biting, Blood, F/M, Vampires, obviously, pun intended, someday this is gonna come back and bite me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-10-30 16:49:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 17,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10880925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Assassin_Weakness/pseuds/Assassin_Weakness
Summary: Kady Lason was nineteen years old when she was kidnapped and put up for auction. If that wasn't enough of a problem, she wasn't purchased by one person, but by six. After being purchased she finds that she's been thrown into a world that most don't even know exist, a world of vampires. While dealing with a new lifestyle filled with danger and hatred, she also has to deal with the threats brought on by her "masters'" high status in the vampiric community and their alternate identities of assassins.OC x Desmond/Altair/Ezio/Ratonhnhake'ton/Edward/JacobThere will be different ending for each, but I do have plans for this... disaster.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter one all edited and prettied up. 
> 
> (Still my same self indulgent fic however!)

Panicked breaths rushed through my nose, my mouth blocked by duct tape that had been slapped sometime in between my pathetically weak attempt to fight my captor and waking up from the right-hook he’d decked me. I could almost swear I still heard ringing in my ears.

My eyes darted around wildly, landing on this face and that, drawn mostly to the few female outliers of the crowd. While the crowd varied in age, most of them were men, doing nothing to ease my fear.

God knew men set me on edge, with good reason.

The women, I had been informed through quiet easedropping on my fellow captives, came mostly seeking presents for their sons or simple help. I could only assume the intentions of the men and I couldn’t assume any less than the abuse I had come to expect from them.

My feet were chained securely to the stage below, preventing me from darting from the stage or attacking my kidnappers—something I had attempted more than once.

My fear didn’t immobilize me, if there was anything I could be proud of. At least they didn’t know I was scared of them.

I was scared though. Terrified. The feeling buzzing in my veins as I forced a brave face. I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing that fear, though; if I was going to die—or suffer whatever fate these human-shaped beasts saw fit—I was going to go through it as I always had.

And that meant digging divets into the insides of my cheeks to keep tears at bay and standing tall.

My hands were tied with rope, rubbing my wrists raw—I wouldn’t be surprised if they were bloody when the rope was removed. Of course, my vicious tugging had done nothing to help the skin, as the pain had done nothing to convince me to stop. It’d taken exhaustion for that.

As my eyes scanned the crowd, still hoping for some semblance of hope for escape, prices far greater than that of my parents’ yearly incomes put together—let alone the pathetic wage I received from stocking shelves in a local shop—were called out for the woman to my right and the prices only continued to rise as the seconds ticked by. Just how wealthy were these people?

I cringed as I heard the word _billion_ thrown into the air.

The woman acted as though this were just another day for her, her face blank—a stark contrast to the pure fury my eyes conveyed to the crowd. Her mouth was uncovered, unlike my own, clearly, I was the only new arrival to this party.

It was impossible not to notice that I was the outlier among these women. While they were treated with only chained feet, I was restrained as if I was a danger—let alone the differences in our body types. All the women were tall, taller than me at least, but that wasn’t a difficult feat; it was the obvious that stood out.

They might as well have been models, their faces lined with only a light layer of makeup and their bodies scantily covered—not that I envied the clothing, not with the prying eyes of men drilling into us—but it was obvious they had done their best to cover my features that weren’t on par with those of the women standing aside me.

Some of the women had the gall to smile and wave at the crowd, though even they carried a look of absolute disgust in their eyes.

_What have I gotten myself into?_

The auctioneer was a tall, dark skinned man with a deep voice and a grin that almost certainly would have fooled anyone into a sense of security—save those of my disposition, who refused to trust others on a good day. He was the first I had been introduced to, playing the part of a gentleman, until he saw that I wasn’t falling for his act.

He made no attempt to keep peace among the ravenous crowd, letting chaos reign until he heard a price that pleased him and sent other buyers into silence

“Sold, number 187!”

"Now, for our final item!” A deep growl rumbled free of my throat at the word _item_ , though it went unheard through the chatter and my blocked lips, it satisfied my need for protest. “Nineteen years old, turning twenty within the month. Unlike our more petite slaves, she will not be as easily broken.” I huffed indignantly, once again unnoticed, at his reference to my less-than-slim form, “While she is untrained,” This information sent most of the crowd mumbling and muttering among themselves, “this can be an advantage for anyone who wants a fighter. Not to mention, she’s a Category H. We had to sedate her to keep her this calm, she’s not one to take kindly to orders

That’s right. They _had_ sedated me. The panic had blocked the thought of the drugs from my mind, but at the mention, I couldn’t help but let out yet another indignant huff. I could still feel the sedative running through my veins, attempting to give me a false sense of relaxation, but they hadn’t dared to give me enough to knock me out and had, in turn, neglected to give me enough to do more than give me a very slight drowsy feeling.

A nap sounded good anyway, but with the sedative? It almost sounded like heaven.

"Who wants to start off the bidding?” At his words, I held my breath, trapped somewhere in between praying for a woman to bid and wanting them to all stay silent, to let me die.

It wasn’t the first time I had wanted to die, after all.

Silence overtook the crowd and, despite my previous thoughts, a shiver went down my spine. Was it that no one wanted a challenge or was it simply my age? All the other women were well over the age of twenty, yet, here I was, nothing more than a child compared to most of the people in the crowd and on the stage.

No, I realized. I had seen plenty of children before being brought out on this stage; a different grouping, but still present.

I could feel the pity-filled stares of the other women on the stage. My kidnappers and most of the women had made it painstakingly clear that if I wasn’t bought, I would be killed, like any unwanted and _untrained_ slaves.

A look of realization crossed the auctioneer’s face, followed by a devious grin. I knew, whatever he was about to say, I wasn’t going to like it. “I forgot the best detail! This girl is a virgin.”

I felt like a train had slammed straight into my chest. I couldn’t catch my breath.

The first bet went up, followed by another, then another. Before long there was an all-out brawl going and I had never felt such a simultaneous mixture of fear and anger in my life.

This couldn’t be happening. I needed to sit down. I needed to get my bearings. A bitter taste rose in my throat and fear and disgust ran like ice through my veins.

Of course, it wasn’t much of a surprise, after all, there were a very limited number of things I could have been kidnapped for, but having my fears confirmed set aflame the burning hatred I had subdued from the moment I had awoken in this situation to keep myself alive. I almost fell forward as I lunged at the auctioneer, pulling ever harder on the rope binding my wrists.

The pain was excruciating, but anger completely enveloped any ounce of care I held. Fear was forgotten under the guise of my rage, flowing off of me in waves.

My body ached with the desire to _end_ the man, but I couldn’t break free.

I couldn’t even rip into him to release my anger and, as such, the anger fermented in my chest, burning more than even the mangled skin of my wrists.

_I’m doomed._

As my anger melted into hopelessness, I fell to my knees, staring blankly at the crowd as they argued over me.

For once in my life, I was wanted, and I _hated_ it.

_Guess this is what they mean when they tell you to be careful what you wish for._

I would have given anything to go back to high school in the moment, even middle school. I would go back to the times in my life that made me want to die and, if I retained the knowledge of how much worse life could get, I could suck up the pain of emotional abuse and bullying. Whatever mistakes I had made that had lead me here couldn’t stem from that far back.

Maybe if I hadn’t spent years hating myself, I wouldn’t have ran off that night and I wouldn’t have ended up here.

_I just need a do-over._

As I stared into the crowd, fighting the panic attack building with each breath I took, I noticed a hooded man making his way to the stage.

I couldn’t see any trace of his face under the hood and its shadow, leaving me unable to read anything about him. As he made his way through the chaos of the crowd, it was as if no one noticed him. He seemed to be the only one in the crowd not fighting tooth and nail to purchase me so I kept my eyes trained on him, using his movements to anchor myself and remind myself to count.

 _Ten. Twenty. Thirty. Forty. Fifty_.

When he finally made it to the stage he motioned for the auctioneer to lean down. The dark-skinned man did so and the hooded man spoke into his ear. Had his mouth not been hidden from me, I could have, at least, read his lips, but their positions made it impossible.

When the auctioneer stood, there was a large smile on his face, stretching from ear to ear. “Sold to number 7!”

My head swung to the women beside me, fast enough to hurt, as my eyes desperately searched their faces for a sign that _somehow_ I was lucky. That, out of all the people, I hadn’t been purchased by someone pure evil. Each of them shook their heads, only slightly, their eyes bleeding pity.

My heart dropped.


	2. Chapter 2

   _The scalding hot water raining down from the shower head received no response, its attempts to be a distraction doing little to nothing to draw my attention from the yelling on the other side of the door. They’d been at it all day. Medication could only do so much to soothe the sickness of anxiety—even with double the prescription—not that the burns on my arms were solving the problem either._  
   _As I stood and exited the shower, the red marks on my body began to sting, the cool air overpowering the numbness. I jumped, breath catching in my throat and chest clenching in the beginning stages of an attack, as the sound of glass shattering reached my ears._  
   _My clothes were on in an instant and the bathroom window opened. I didn’t hesitate._  
   _I never hesitated._

  Unlike the other women, still standing in wait for their new  _owners_ , I was instantly approached by the silent guards that had stood watch throughout the violent bidding war.   
  Comparatively to me, they were  _giants_.  
  But I wasn’t going without a fight.   
  The moment my feet were released, I swiveled, jumping and slamming my forehead into one of the men’s noses. The dull pain in my skull did nothing to lessen my fury and I turned once again, charging the auctioneer with all the furiosity of a threatened beast.   
  The strain on my wrists when the rope was grabbed tore a hiss from my throat. The pain was just as quickly forgotten as I spun on my heel and aimed my head toward another face.   
  Before I made contact I was jerked away, my target taking hold of one of my arms while another kept me from attacking once again by taking hold of my other arm.   
  As they pulled me after the retreating form of the man who had  _bought_  me, I began kicking and dragging my feet. Muffled shouts tore from my throat, but I was paid no mind.   
  Behind the tape, I muttered and whimpered as I fought to get loose, my attempts made all the stronger by the fear brought by the  _gender_  of those restraining me. Though I knew my attempts were useless, I refused to go without a fight.   
  I hadn’t learned how to defend myself just to tuck tail the moment the need for defense arose.   
  I wasn’t getting thrown into a  _man’s_  possession without hurting  _someone_  and I didn’t care who.  
  The man in front of us walked leisurely, as if he had no cares in the world, and it brought my burning anger to the forefront of my mind, bypassing any and all remaining fear, where it peaked, pushing my blind panic into submission.   
  I jammed an elbow into each of the men behind me, satisfaction flooding my chest from just the bruising contact. To my shock, I successfully sent them falling back, bringing a proud grin to rest on my face.   
  Thank God my distrust of men made me paranoid enough to ensure that I could at  _least_  make a quick getaway if ever needed.   
  I shot off toward the wooded area that enclosed the auction, thanking God again for the flats I’d been given in contrast of the heels most of the women wore. Still, I had only taken a few steps before one of the men tackled me, his aggressiveness making clear the rage he felt at being bested by one of his products.   
  I slammed against the ground with no way to break my fall, rocks slicing cuts into my face and legs. The man jerked me to my feet with no concern for the now bleeding cuts, not that I had expected any.   
  Had I been able to use my words, I would have commented on damaging the merchandise, even as my legs began to shake and pressure built behind my eyes.   
  I had been  _bought_.  
  Who knew what this man was going to do to me, but I had my reasonable assumptions and they made me sick.   
  I found myself wishing he had left me to die.   
  I continued my earlier attempts to escape by thrashing, but as it became clear that my attempts weren’t working, I brought one leg forward before slamming it back into the crotch of the man holding my right arm. His already bruising grip on my arm tightened and resulted in a loud cry from my throat, the sound muffled, but audible even through the duct tape.   
  When I was shoved into an expensive looking limo-like vehicle, I was momentarily stunned into paralysis. Clearly, this man had money.   
  Of course, rich people weren’t rare enough to shock me on their, but we were still close to my small town—and all the other small towns around us—as far as I knew, and there were no rich people anywhere in our rural area, none with a  _limo_. They could spend all the money they wanted on a kidnapped person, but a limo? No way would that, or a convention of “richies” go unnoticed. Now that I thought about it, I could almost swear I had seen some of the people in the crowd before.  
  Was I even in my town anymore?  
  I stayed frozen for only a few moments. There was no time to waste on pointless thoughts. I had to get out of this situation.   
  I pulled my knees to my chest. In my position, alone in the back of this vehicle, I had no reason to hold back when I began slamming my feet against the limo door as hard as I could. Grunting as the pressure shot pain up my calves, I grew more and more frantic as a dent appeared around the door’s handle.   
  Just as I was about to slam my feet against the window, hesitating only in fear of the glass getting in my eyes—a stupid reason in reflection—the limo jerked to a stop, sending me rolling to the floor.  
  I shook my head as I sat up, already feeling a growing bump where my head had hit, as I wondered what was going on. It was only a few seconds later that the door opened and a man climbed in beside me.  
  He was taller than the man who had bought me. Taller by at least three inches and broader, bigger than even the men who had dragged me to the vehicle, and he didn’t look like he was amused with my pathetic attempt at escape. I scooted as close as I could to the other side of the car, remaining on the floor as I trembled and tried not to let tears fall.  
  My legs burned and the cuts from the harsh tackle stung, but nothing hurt as much as the pain of fear clutching its icy claws into my heart.   
  I was shaking. Fear and the obvious burning out of my adrenaline both equal culprits.   
  I thought a nap sounded like heaven  _before_.  
  The man didn’t say a word, he hardly even glanced at me, while I didn’t dare glance away, and he barely moved at all until the limo once again came to a stop.  
  I peeked out the window to see a large mansion, surrounded by thick trees. The trees would be an easy way to escape, however, getting past the tall fence, which was identifiable as electrified by the caution sign, would be the exact opposite.  
  An  _electrified_  fence?   
   _How_ extra _can these guys get?_  
  The man who had sat in the back with me walked around the car and jerked open the door before he grabbed and lifted me almost effortlessly. I immediately began thrashing as best I could, banging my bound fists against his back—it was easy enough to slip my hands in front of me without much movement, and it was a welcome distraction—and knees against his chest, a well-aimed knee to the face caused him to drop me. Despite the pain—did my wrist just break?—and loss of breath from the fall with no chance to soften it, I immediately shot up and ran toward the trees. Exhaustion had nothing on my will to live.   
  Though death was a secondary fear at this point.  
   _God_  men were terrifying.    
  My path was blocked by yet another man. Unlike the hooded men with fancy leather and metal - something I only begun to question upon his appearance - he was wearing a simple white hoodie and jeans and it took his clothing to remind me that I wasn’t in some alternate time or dimension. “Look, just relax.” I paused in my fleeing, but hadn’t the slightest intention of relaxing; I wouldn’t have paused at all if he hadn’t bee in front of me. “Just let us explain.”  
  I let a huff out of my nose, glaring at him with all the hate I could muster with my eyes—both for this situation and the fact that I’d been proven right. I  _knew_  every bad experience in my life led to dying at the hands of some psychotic man—or men, as it was.   
  Let them  _explain_? Let them explain why I was kidnapped, or why I was treated like an animal? Or maybe why they thought they had the right to  _buy_  me, or anyone for that matter? I tried to convey all the anger I felt through my glare, but it wasn’t nearly enough.  
  Not even a fraction of enough.  
  And the fear, that was surely peeking through.   
  My eyes were focused on him so intently and my blood was pounding so loud in my ears, I didn’t notice someone else coming up behind me.  
  A blade pressed itself against my throat as a rough voice spoke against my ear, “Keep running and we’ll have to put you down.” My panting stopped as I held my breath, lest that blade find its way under my skin.   
   _Explain_. Yeah, right.   
  I tensed, from the presence of the blade, yes, but farther from the way he had phrased that—even farther from how close he was. What gave him the right to talk to me like an animal? I’d never once regretted dropping out of the fighting classes I had been enrolled in before, convinced I knew enough to keep myself safe. I’d much rather spend my time sleeping or being lazy when I wasn’t working—save when I needed to get out—but I regretted it now. I regretted it more than I would have ever thought possible.   
  Tears finally escaped my eyes, running down and hitting the duct tape. The man behind me immediately pulled his blade away and lifted me, as my chest began to heave with my sobs, the day’s events finally ushering tears from my eyes.   
  He shushed me.   
  The action was so juxtaposed to the situation, so  _foreign_  to what I knew, that it threw me for a loop, halting my tears for a moment as my brain struggled to regain some sense of reality.   
  Because this man, that had been holding a knife to my throat seconds before, did  _not_  shush me with all the gentleness someone would award a crying child.   
  And, more urgently, I was  _not_  wanting to relax. I did  _not_  want to trust them.  
  I was so tired. I was so drained. I was so  _terrified_.   
  I was sobbing again, but I’d grabbed his shirt, fists tight in the fabric.   
  “Relax,” he muttered under his breath as he attempted to get the duct tape off my mouth while continuing to restrain me. I wasn’t running now. I was  _hesitating_. “I’m guessing he over-estimated how much of a fighter you are, hm?”  
  When he finally managed to get the tape off—muttering an almost silent apology as I let out a yelp—he shoved the crumpled piece in his pocket. “There we are, now you can yell all the profanities you want.”  
     I didn’t respond, sobs still coming from my throat as he lifted me, bridal style, with ease that I momentarily questioned  
 Like I was a feather.   
  Even if I had answered, I wasn’t much for cursing, I just didn’t do it; it didn’t line up with my beliefs and far be it from me to start now when I needed that lifeline the most, not that I’d dare yell at the man who just held a knife to my throat at all.   
  Finally, I sobbed my first unhindered words against his chest,  "Please don’t hurt me.“   
  "Wouldn’t dream of it, love.”


	3. Chapter 3

                "You will consider all of us your masters. If we tell you to do something, you will do so without question." I nodded quickly. Clearly, The Syrian in front of me wasn't in any mood for anything other than compliance; I wasn't in any position to be arguing back anyway. I couldn't look him in the face without feeling like a child who had done something wrong.

                Or a pet that had been bad.

                "Altair, you're scaring her. _Bella_ , don't mind him. I'm Ezio Auditore." I kept my head down, not responding, still, he pushed on. "What's your name, _Cara_?"

                I remained silent for a second longer, all things considered, I didn't want to get on their bad sides over something as simple as a name. "Kady Lason."

                Silence followed my answer, clearly none of them had expected me to respond.

                Finally, after what felt like minutes, but could only have been a couple of seconds, Ezio held his hand out. I hesitated for a moment, not believing for a moment that the civility of this situation was honest, but I did shake his hand.

                Ezio's move led to the others introducing themselves. I had expected some of their names to sound familiar, as I was certain at this point that I had recognized some of the people in the crowd, but none of their names rang a bell.

                The situation was far from becoming any less awkward than it had been when Jacob had carried my sobbing form through the front door. If anything, the situation was becoming more awkward. Or, maybe, it was tension not awkwardness at all. Either way, I couldn't help clenching and unclenching my fists at my sides, a nervous habit I hoped they didn't misjudge as anything other than an attempt to calm my nerves.

                "Who's going to tell her?" I had no idea what Desmond was referring to, so his question immediately sent my mind into a panic, trying to give myself any idea of what they would _need_ to tell me.

                With a sigh, Edward spoke, "I'll handle it." He muttered something I could quite hear as he took the few steps from where he was standing to where I was. He crouched down in front of me and sent glances to Jacob and Desmond who were the closest to my sides. He spoke gently, like I was a scared animal-which I suppose wasn't far from how I was acting. "This is going to scare you and, considering you weren't trained, you have every right. But we aren't going to hurt you." Before I had a chance to question or even consider what he had said, his eyes flashed red and he opened his mouth to reveal sharp fangs.

                I pushed myself up with a gasp, fully intending to make a run for the door that was only a few feet away. Before I could, however, Jacob and Desmond had grabbed my arms and pulled me back onto the couch we were on. "No! Let me go!"

                I was sure I dug my nails into Jacob's arm, more out of reflex than genuine intention, but he didn't sound at all upset when he spoke. "Calm down, Love." Using the hand that wasn't gripping my wrist, he turned my head to the side and met my eyes. His eyes flashed red for a moment and my body went limp. A false sense of security clouded my mind and, though I knew it wasn't real, I couldn't fight against it. "That's a good girl." Jacob purred, rubbing his thumb on the back of my hand.

                "We went to the auction intending to buy a _trained_ blood slave." While he paused, and sent a glare in Ezio's direction, I could feel fear bypassing the false peace. What could blood slave possibly mean other than what had immediately popped into my mind? "Ezio didn't want you to be bought just to be tortured and killed-like most blood slaves and almost all untrained slaves are-so he bought you." Altair's voice was cold, but his eyes seemed to hold a bit of sympathy, not that that offered me much comfort.

                Connor, who had been nearly silent up to this point, interjected. "We need to brand her."

                My body was still limp and the false peace still mostly intact, but it was hardly a moment after the word _brand_ that I was thrashing once again, kicking and trying to pull my arms from the grips of the men beside me. "You can't! Don't!"

                Jacob and Desmond's grips immediately tightened to a point that it was borderline painful. "Thanks, Connor!" Desmond snapped, trying to avoid my nails, that were now clearly being used as intentional weapons.

                "He is right; we should get it over with." Edward had quickly gotten out of the way when I'd started kicking and was standing next to Altair. "I'll go get it ready." He was gone in a flash, through the panic in my brain, I acknowledged that it was most likely because he wanted out of the situation.

                " _No_!" I shrieked once more, somehow getting loose from Jacob and Desmond to my own surprise. I immediately ran to the door, slamming into it as I grabbed the handle and found it locked. Connor was standing over me a second later, my arms in his grasp, tightly, but not painfully. "Please _don't_!"

                "If it was our choice we wouldn't, but it is law. If anyone happens to notice you are not branded it could cause trouble for all of us."

                "I won't run! I swear! _Please_!" I didn't expect them to believe that, even I didn't believe it, but I'd say anything to get out of this. I'd _do_ anything to get out of this entire situation.

                "It's ready." Edward's voice came from the stairway he had disappeared up. Connor seemed relieved, not that I could blame him, He could try to reason with me as much as he wanted, but he knew he wouldn't get anywhere.

                I shrieked again as Connor picked me up. I brought my hand back, intending to scratch him—not that it would help me in the long run—but his eyes flashed red, much in the way Jacob's had, and I froze. The effects lasted only a couple of seconds, but it was long enough for him to pin my arms to my sides and wrap an arm around my legs, preventing any attack I could have attempted.

                I continued to thrash, but tears quickly covered my face as I found I could do nothing.


	4. Chapter 4

                By the time Connor was able to pry me off him and get me to sit on a table, I was practically hyperventilating. The harder I tried to catch my breath and calm down, the harder it became to breathe, in turn making me panic even more. Finally, Jacob tilted my head back and met my eyes, before his eyes flashed he placed a hand on my shoulder, preventing me from falling when I went limp.

                For all my thrashing and dramatics, I had to admit that the false peace did make the pain—what was left after they numbed the area—from the burn less extreme. I jumped more from the cold chill of the ice pack one of them pressed against my back after it was done.

                Jacob was rubbing his thumb against the back of my hand once again. Even though I was still aware that the calmness I felt was false, I couldn't say I didn't appreciate the gesture.

                "What order are we going in?" My head snapped in Edward's direction—though snapped was probably an exaggeration.

                "I'm first!" Jacob exclaimed childishly. "Since we're sharing you, you'll stay with each of us for a week. On the first night, whichever one of us you are with will drink from you, the rest of the week you're free from any other responsibilities."

                I was sure I made a face. The calm was wearing off, as it did, the _brand_ began to burn more than it had and the idea of being food for them was far from desirable. I jumped as Ezio clasped a hand on my shoulder. "You shouldn't worry about it, _Bella_. The pain only lasts for a moment."

                That didn't change anything.

-

                I was far from thrilled to meet their other slaves, but, knowing they weren't human, I was glad to know that there were other humans in the mansion.

                The group was split evenly between male and female. The men all seemed either completely uninterested in me or more interested than I appreciated. A few of the women offered me smiles, which I couldn't help but return. The smiles calmed me slightly, at least they didn't give me the unnerving look the women at the auction had.

                Like I was competition. That wasn't something I was used to considering I'd always been the ugly girl, not that it bothered me much anymore.

                At least, it hadn't in the months leading up to my kidnapping, commitment frightened me enough, let alone commitment to a man.

                A group of three girls I recognized to be around my age offered me nothing more than cold glares. I attempted to ignore them as my gaze wandered over the rest of the group, but when my eyes returned to them to find them still glaring daggers at me, I returned the look.

                "There _won't_ be any fighting." Altair's voice didn't betray his words as anything other than what they were. That wasn't a suggestion or a command, that was a _threat_. His gaze was on the group of three at first, but soon switched to me. As soon as his eyes moved to me, I snapped my head in the opposite direction. "That includes you." I nodded.

                "We need to go." As they all walked to the door, leaving me confused, Ezio called over his shoulder for one of the other slaves—Kelly—to keep an eye on me. With that, they were gone.

                As soon as they were out of the door, the group began to dissipate, the only exception being who I assumed was Kelly, the group of three, and a man around my age.

                Kelly looked to be in her mid-twenties and, despite the situation, she grinned at me genuinely. She held out her hand and I took it before jerking my hand back and crossing my arms again. "Nice to meet you. I'm sorry for the circumstances." Her smile fell slightly.

                I nodded in agreement, though my attention had diverted itself to the group who, instead of glaring, were now whispering and pointing to each other. Considering all I had heard, I could make a fair assumption that the girls had been trained, I guess snootiness extends to all walks of life. "What _is_ their problem?" I questioned, jutting my head in the girls' direction.

                Kelly made a sound between a snicker and a scoff, "They're jealous."

                I raised an eyebrow. I guess that the men were quite attractive, but I was far more concerned with my loss of freedom, and—of course—the small matter that I was _literally_ a food source for them. I had far more important things to worry about than their looks—they were hot though, I wouldn't lie.

                "Just to be on the safe side—not that I think you can't protect yourself—but you should probably avoid them." Kelly glanced to the group and then back to me. "They were raised in this life and are used to the punishments, you on the other hand, aren't."

                I felt a shiver go down my spine, but refused to show any indication of it, not when one of them could be looking. "They'll... _punish_ me even if they start the fight?" That word put a bad taste in my mouth. This entire situation made me hyper aware of any word or statement that could be used for an animal and I didn't like it.

                "They don't appreciate breaking up fights, and..." She glanced to the side and hesitated, I could tell she didn't think she should say what she was about to say. "Vampires in general are... possessive. They don't like anything they feel entitled to being... marked on by anyone other than them." She glanced back at me, clearly trying to judge my reaction.

                Making the vampires that towered over my frame and could easily rip me apart angry wasn't the best idea, but a small part of me didn't care, at least, not when they weren't there. Some small part of my mind, that I was trying my hardest to ignore, kept reminding me that they had to have had a _blood slave_ before me and what could have happened to make them need a new one other than the obvious?

                "What are you thinking?" Kelly's voice was suspicious, maybe even a little nervous.

                After being brought back from my thoughts, I was questioning them myself.

                This day had been too much. I needed to get some sleep before I really did snap.

                I tossed a final glare of my own in the direction of the girls. "Is there somewhere I can take a nap?"

                Kelly seemed relieved to be getting me away from the potential trouble that the group posed. "You can use my bed, come on." She gently nudged me toward the steps, chatting to me about random things as she led me up them.


	5. Chapter 5

                I woke up to a smell like that of change after being in contact with skin, albeit, far stronger than change would be. As I sat up and placed my feet on the cold wood floor, I had to fight back a gag. The smell was strong enough that, even without the sensitivity of my nose, I knew I'd be able to smell it. I'd never smelt blood so clearly before, it didn't even connect in my mind that it was, in fact, blood, until I rose my eyes to see Kelly and Edward.

                Kelly looked uncomfortable, not that I blamed her, but that, obviously, wasn't enough to make me realize what it was. My eyes shifted to Edward and, even after I noticed the red staining his clothing—that my groggy mind didn't care enough to question—it took me another couple of moments to react.

                I took a sudden sharp intake of breath, pushing myself back on the bed with the intent to go farther back, until a blaring pain on my back made itself known in an excruciating manner. _Oh right. I'm property. Silly me_.

                I was ripped from my bitter thoughts when I felt a hand on my shoulder. The size of the hand and the fading of the metallic scent in the air was enough of an indication that Kelly was the one who had come to my aid. _Thank God_.

-

                Well after Kelly had declared there was nothing else she could do to help the pain, we sat in an awkward silence. Finally, I huffed, running a hand through my hair-realizing that it had flattened out-before unintentionally snapping my question. "What _are_ they?" I rolled my eyes when she gave me the answer that I already had. "What _else_ are they?"

                She glanced down, clearly uncomfortable. "I'm not supposed to tell you."

                The tension in my shoulders relaxed as I let out a sigh. "It's really that bad? It has to be if it's worse than them being _vampires_." I was baiting her and, from the look she gave me, she knew it.

                I didn't blame her for changing the subject.

                "It's been awhile since there's been any new slaves around here."

                "Do _you_ have to refer to us as slaves too?" I groaned, "It's bad enough I've got a constant reminder of my place burned into my skin, can we just, I don't know, be normal for a minute?"

                "Sorry," she gave me a somewhat sad smile, "I'm not sure I remember what normal is." I felt bad for referring to my past as normal, when this was probably all she'd ever known, but she spoke again before I could offer my apology. "I was untrained though, I think I was about twenty when I ended up here. I know better than anyone else here how terrifying it is to become accustomed to this life."

                "So... are there any books around here?"

                She laughed and I couldn't help but grin, "I've got quite a collection. They bring back stuff sometimes and I'm the only one who cares to spend much time reading, some of the guys do like comic books though."

                If anything, at least I'd made a friend.

-

                The next time I saw them, they weren't covered in blood. That didn't erase the image that was burned into my mind or the smell burned into my nose, _God_ that smell.

                They were discussing something, clearly the other slaves were aware of whatever it was, as they made no attempt to keep quiet when one of them would pass. The second I stepped into earshot, however, they went silent.

                That was concerning for multiple reasons, but all things considered, demanding that they tell me what they were talking about wasn't really an option for me. Ezio tossed a grin in my direction and I immediately looked to the floor.

                Within an instant, he was at my side and I was staring at him, wide-eyed from shock. I quickly hopped a comfortable distance away. The smell of blood still fresh in my mind and, I was fairly certain, that, wherever Edward had accumulated that amount of blood, the others were at his side.

                "Why do you need a blood slave if you come back covered in blood? Couldn't you have easily drunk that?"

                They were reasonable questions, I thought so at least, but I probably should have bit back some of the bitterness that seeped through my words. Why should I have to suffer if they were just going to go out and get themselves covered in someone else's blood?

                They exchanged glances, a few glares being sent in Edward's direction—to which he shrugged.

                I already knew my questions were going to go unanswered, frankly, I wasn't sure if I wanted them answered. Even if I had wanted it answered, I still didn't have the gall to argue with men who came home covered in blood.

                "We should head off to bed, shouldn't we?"

                At first the words seemed to be simple avoidance of my question, but a single glance in my direction had me paralyzed, the insinuation clear.

_Oh, God. Oh, God, no._

                I took a single step back, eyes connected with the hazel of Jacob's. Even through the fear, I was aware that the defiance in me was flaring—much in the way it had when I'd attempted to run earlier.

_I'm going to run._

                I knew my eyes gave away my intention as well as my body language, even without glancing in the direction of the—unlocked, from what I had noticed upon entering the room—door, it was obvious where I was headed.

                I spun, fully forgetting the nearness of Ezio, though the reminder of his presence wasn't what stopped me.

                Suddenly, I was staring at a chest.

                I had never been more terrified to look up. I'd always been one to face what fears I had—conquering my fear of heights by going bungee jumping and things like that—but my fear had never been a vampire before, let alone a hungry vampire that could easily make me fall limp.

                When I finally willed myself to glance up, his face hadn't changed—despite the way my mind had convinced me it would. The same hypnotizing eyes as before stared back into my own, almost puppy-like. He offered a hand, no manipulation as I had expected, simply an offer.

                I could still run.

                Hesitantly, I took his hand, still thinking of the blood Edward had been coated in. Had the others been just as coated?

                Was I holding the hand of a murderer?

                _Worse,_ my mind declared, _you're holding the hand of a monster_.


	6. Chapter 6

                Warm eyes traced my body as I, obediently, stood still, switching my gaze from left to right, trying my hardest to not meet his eyes. Whether for fear of him using his ability on me or fear that it would make the situation _more_ real, I couldn't say.

                He'd made it clear that meeting his eyes wasn't the best decision.

                "I'm not going to hurt you on purpose." The words seemed to plead with my ears to trust them, but I heard nothing but a lie, fear leaving room for only distrust, which was, to be fair, my default form of trust. The brand said otherwise.

                He let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. The distrust must have shown clearly on my face, I made no attempt to hide it, after all.

                He placed his hands on either side of my head and my eyes finally met his, his eyes bore into my own as his fangs elongated from his gums. Momentarily, most likely an attempt to distract from the absolute terror I was feeling, I considered how uncomfortable it would be for him to close his mouth before the fear was able to bypass the silly thought. I could imagine the white soon being stained with my blood.

                Neither of us moved, him—I supposed—for the danger of frightening me and I for the fear I felt for him.

                Then, my hand rose, almost of its own volition, slowly and out of my control. He didn't budge or flinch when my hand contacted his chest, even as I forced all my strength into it.

_No._

_Please stop._

                The pleas were silent and he treated them as such. He stared, eyes shifting to a red color slowly, like ink through water. It was beautiful, though I'd never admit it out loud. I hardly even recognized the beauty of it through the fear buzzing throughout my body.

                _What are you doing? I'm telling you to run. Why are we here?_ My body seemed to question through its tense muscles and shaking.

                _I'm sorry_ , I responded mentally, _I'm sorry_.

                The tears weren't supposed to come. I'd already cried enough; I didn't need to make any more of a fool of myself. They came, though, despite my attempts to keep them away, overflowing from my eyes and leaving their incriminating trails upon my cheeks.

                His hands moved away from the wall, cupping my cheeks instead, ignoring my attempts to pull away. He shushed me, repeating himself as sobs broke through once again, wiping away at the tears that appeared. "I'm sorry."

                The apology was so sincere, so unlike the sharp fangs protruding from his mouth and the burning red of his eyes, that it was enough to make my tears slow.

                "It's going to hurt." It wasn't a question; I knew it would. If needles hurt, as tiny as they were, how much more pain would thick fangs embedded in your neck cause?

                He answered anyway. "Yes."

                "I don't want to die."

                "I won't kill you. I promise."

                That was it, with a quick movement, his face was in the crook between my neck and shoulder. I let out a yelp, but wasn't fangs that met my skin, but lips.

                They were cold, but practiced. They moved immediately to suck at a point that made me groan and turn my head, exposing more of my neck to him.

                "Good girl." He growled, nuzzling his nose against my neck. I'd be lying if I said that those words mixed with that growl hadn't sent a shiver down my spine from a feeling far from fear.

                He kissed and sucked at my neck for a few more moments, creating what I knew would be hickeys. I didn't have the nerve to snap at him for it, nor did I want him to stop.

                When the sharp tips of his fangs pressed against my skin, I froze. My neck was still bared to him and I couldn't find it in myself to pull away.

                My hand reached out again, fumbling clumsily before gripping the fabric of his shirt and trying to push him away even though I knew it was hopeless.

                "Calm down." His voice was, surprisingly enough, successful in its attempt to calm me. Maybe his powers weren't limited to his eyes. His hand ran up my arm, fingers brushing lightly over my skin. He covered my mouth as he sunk his teeth through my skin.

                The scream I let out was loud enough to render the hand practically useless.

                For a moment, we were frozen again, for all but my panicked breath. He wasn't drinking my blood, had he been, surely, I would have been able to tell.

                He finally shifted, his hand moved away from my mouth and moved down to my hip. I winced as he began to drink my blood, the feeling was different than what I would have expected.

                Instead of feeling pain from the area his fangs were embedded, I felt like blood was being pulled directly from my heart. I could almost feel it running through my veins and, while it wasn't exactly painful, my body knew—whatever was happening to it—this wasn't right. I involuntarily flinched, pulling enough to send a searing pain through my neck as he pulled back.

                "I'm sorry." I'd hurt myself, not him, but I felt obligated to apologize as his eyes burned into my own.

                "You did nothing wrong."

                I shivered as he returned to my neck and ran his tongue over the blood still running from the wound.


	7. Chapter 7

The silence I was awarded as I entered the main room the following morning was more than a little disconcerting, but I decided to ignore it—them—in favor for the smell of food wafting through the air.

The smell was far more pleasant than blood, even if it did smell slightly burnt.

Sleeping with Jacob hadn't offered much of a restful night. It wasn't his fault, as much as I hated to admit it. His tossing and turning, and the arm he'd wrapped around my waist halfway through the night didn't bother me nearly as much as the sounds of bickering the floor below us. While I wasn't thrilled about being so close to a literal monster, I found it more stressful to hear the female voices below arguing about something I couldn't detect.

I definitely heard my name, though, and I didn't like hearing it during such an aggressive argument. Eventually, a voice I identified as Altair's told them to be quiet and the sounds slowly faded into nothing but the ticking of the clock on the wall.

As I entered the kitchen, I was greeted by Kelly. She directed me to a chair and told me to sit, I complied and she rushed off before I could strike a conversation. I let my head thud on the table, letting out a sigh.

This still seemed like something that wasn't actually happening. It seemed like a long dream, maybe an illusion or something along those lines. It wasn't, though. The pain on my back made that much clear.

I was jerked from my thoughts by the chair in front of me and the chairs beside me scuffing along the floor. I glanced up to that the seats had been occupied by faces that held harsh glares above dark smiles. Instinctively, from the closeness of the two on my sides, I pushed myself back, causing pain to flare up from the brand.

It was far too early in the morning for this. My neck ached with a harsh reminder of the previous night, the visual evidence hidden under a bandage that Jacob had carefully applied. I had no desire to anger our masters at the moment either, they already seemed to be in foul moods.

I whipped my head around, glancing all over the kitchen. Where had Kelly gone?

"Little blood slaves like this one never last long, do they?" The speaker had shoulder-length black hair with lips painted a deep purple, nearly the same shade. I had to wonder who she was trying to impress. She had at least half a foot on my 5'1 form.

The one who answered did so in a sickly-sweet voice like the black-haired girl's. "Nope." She had blonde hair and blue eyes, with a face that, if not covered in disdain and such darkness, would have given the illusion of innocence. She only had a couple of inches on me, her petite form didn't look like it would hold up well in a fight.

"And they always leave covered in scars and blood." The final speaker held herself like a leader, sitting tall and proud in the seat in front of me. Our appearances were quite similar, her brown hair was longer than mine, but nearly the same dark shade as were her dark blue eyes. She was taller than me by about the same height as the black-haired girl, skinnier and with more prominent cheek bones and jaw line, apart from those differences, we could have been sisters. I decided she was my least favorite. "Keep that in mind, Sweetheart."

She knocked a glass over as she left, sending the water in it to my lap.

I didn't move for a couple of moments. There had been cruelty in their eyes, but there was no sign of a lie.

-

I shied away from the men for as long as I could, shadowing Kelly and assisting her in whatever she did. I could tell Jacob blamed the night before for my actions, his eyes bled guilt when I did happen to catch sight of him.

Odd. I didn't expect monsters to be capable of guilt.

I hated that I felt guilty. They had bought me and branded me like an animal, but some part of my mind told me I should be grateful that they hadn't seriously injured me. That didn't mean I owed them anything other than hatred.

There was overwhelming sense of tension throughout the mansion and everyone seemed to be preparing for something. I was both nervous and curious about what it could be, but the nervousness everyone else was showing quickly rubbed off and overtook the curiosity.

When one of the vampires finally caught me—it was Desmond. for which I was grateful—he explained why everyone was so nervous. "Any screw up could lead to... a lot of trouble. We have to keep our image up."

I guess that was one thing humans and vampires had in common. They both valued their images, though, the urgency in the way Desmond spoke led me to believe image meant more in this situation than in an ordinary one.

-

My attempts at avoiding them didn't matter in the long run. Desmond ended up dragging me with him. When separated from Kelly, I decided staying by his side would be safer than wondering off—judging by what had happened this morning.

Desmond wandered around the house and out of it, something I was surprised he allowed me to follow along with. He spent most the time helping with whatever my fellow slaves were doing. I didn't ask, but he mentioned in passing that the others would normally do the same, today being the exception.

He also mentioned that once a week, providing they weren't working—it took all my self-control to not ask where they worked—they took a day to do all the work, and one day was a lazy day for everyone, even food was just microwave meals. I laughed when he referred to it as family movie and game night.

"You don't actually play board games?"

"Oh yeah, I'm the best at Life."

I almost choked on the water I'd just swallowed, "You're such a liar, there is no way Altair plays board games."

"He prefers video games. Of course, we don't play Mario Kart often, it always ends... badly."

"Oh, my lord!"

I couldn't believe that the night before I'd been bitten by a vampire. Desmond seemed so normal in the middle of all this insanity and I knew I could trust him. Still, there was no denying the suspiciously red drink he held.

I followed him around for a couple more hours, asking him subtle questions that didn't seem too invasive, until their visitor arrived.

As soon as I stepped into the room I became uncomfortable, the tension rising by the second; I didn't know where to look. Looking at the man seemed to be asking for trouble and looking at my masters felt too awkward.

The man who had entered the mansion observed me with beady eyes, dark and shiny like an insect's. He gave no name; the others knew him; I didn't need to know him. I wasn't entirely aware of how the other vampires viewed humans, the ones I'd been purchased by, honestly, weren't that bad. I was essentially a prisoner, but some part of me remembered the comment about "Ezio not wanting me to be tortured and killed" and I had to appreciate that.

I was standing between Connor and Ezio, exact opposite from Jacob and Edward on the other end of the lazy line that they had formed. When the man told me to come to him—his voice was higher than I would have imagined; I might have snickered if I wasn't in this situation—Ezio's voice cut through the tense air, harsh and jarring. "Go." The change in his voice frightened me enough to bypass any hesitation I might have had.

The man grabbed me as soon as I was in his direct vicinity, tilting my head back roughly. I had to resist the angry huff that almost escaped me. I was scared, but this man didn't scare me nearly as much as the men who owned me. He was small, only slightly taller than me, and I could have easily taken him in a fight—if he hadn't been a vampire that is.

His eyes were different from the eye of my owners as well, his eyes weren't hungry—not for my blood, at least—they were lust-ridden and that terrified me more than anything else had up to this point. I was sure they could all hear my heartbeat speed up.

One of the man's hands began to trail down my body, toward my hip, unlike Jacob's movements the night before, his were harsh and unwelcome.

His hand hit the brand and I flinched.

I heard an intake of air from one of the men behind me, I wasn't certain if it was aimed at me or the man touching me, but I wasn't about to turn and find out.

The man pressed his lips harshly against the wound Jacob had left on my neck—I'd taken the bandage off after helping Kelly dust. His hand trailed too low for my liking and squeezed.

I had been calm—apart from the obvious pain he was causing me—until he had shamelessly groped me, immediately after he did, I jerked away, a harsh growl coming from my throat.

Oh, my God, what had I done?

The stunned silence from behind me prompted me to turn. Each and every one of their faces held a mixture of unease and what I could only describe as pride. The pride on their faces somehow rose a bit of pride in myself.

The pride was short lived as the man, bitter and angry at my display, spoke. "Well? Are you just going to let her get away with that disrespect?"

Both unease and pride immediately fell from their faces, and with them went whatever bravery I had been able to muster.

Oh God. What had I done?

Edward was the one who stepped forward. I could smell blood again, strong and rancid against my sensitive nose. Would my blood replace what I had seen and smelt upon awakening?

I let out a dry sob as he grabbed my arm roughly—definitely leaving a bruise—and dragging me toward the basement door. Somehow, the fact that he was dragging me to the basement made it worse.

Behind me, I heard Desmond's voice, almost sounding completely dismissive. "Sorry about that, she's untrained."

In my head "they always leave covered in scars and blood," echoed.


	8. Chapter 8

                "Please don't kill me." The sobbed words were enough to make Edward pause as he was tying my hands together, rope once again rubbing against my still raw wrists.

                His eyes immediately moved to my own, guilt clear on his face, "I'm not going to kill you, love." He paused and seemed to consider what he was about to say. "You should've hit him."

                He ignored the surprised look on my face, moving behind me and pulling the back of my shirt up and around my neck. My mind connected what was probably going to be my punishment—considering that, in the time before we'd been auctioned off, I'd seen at least three girls get what they'd referred to as "the general punishment"—but I wasn't nearly as afraid as when they had branded me.

                I turned my head far enough to see a whip in his hand. His hand cuffed me on the shoulder, rougher than the comfort Jacob had given, but not unwelcome.

                " _Scream_." It was clearly a demand; one I didn't have trouble following.

-

                Edward carried me up the steps bridal style, dropping me back onto my feet as we reached the door. I tensed as his hand rested on the curve of my back.

                "Sorry about this." His hand fell quickly to the back of my thigh and pressed against my skin. Before I could even comprehend his movement, a sharp pain went through my leg and I let out a loud yelp.

                My leg gave out and I fell against him, I was fully prepared to hit the floor, but he caught me. "Alright, steady." He helped me balance as he opened the door and lightly shoved me out. I made a show of making the shove seem harder than it really was—from what I could tell, this was all a show anyway.

                The man smirked, sending it in my direction. I could tell he was baiting me, still, in any other situation I would have thrown myself at him and torn into him.

                I limped as I walked, slightly more than necessary. Edward's presence slightly behind me was more comforting than expected, considering he had caused the pain I was in.

                Jacob and Connor's abilities had been pleasant enough for me to expect the others' to be just as pleasant. I wouldn't be making any other assumptions about vampires without proof.

                "You should be careful. Slaves like that only cause trouble, far more than they're worth. I'd return her if I were you." The man grinned as my eyes widened and snapped in their direction.

                I didn't even know they could do that; I had assumed that the brand meant I was theirs indefinitely—another wrong assumption on my part. I had to resist the urge to back up to Edward.

                I did a double take. Why? Did I expect an action like that to convince them to keep me? That brought another more worrisome question to mind. Did I _want_ to be here?

                Logically, I could assume that—judging by the man who had shown up—the other vampires were nothing like the ones I had been _fortunate_ enough to get stuck with, but logic hadn't been in my thoughts. I _knew_ why I wanted to be here, even if I hadn't thought about it until this point. Was I honestly that _shallow_?

                Or was it something else? No one had yelled at me or each other since I'd arrived, forget the girls having something against me, this was a stable environment.

                Did I honestly prefer this to my home?

                Crap.

                "Unless you're planning on draining her." The tension in the room increased, the words immediately snapped me out of my thoughts—not that they weren't still lingering in the back of my head. "You are, aren't you? After all, that's the only reason untrained slaves are ever bought." His eyes narrowed and his smirk grew, he met eyes with me, I was far too stubborn to glance away. "Just like your last one."

                The words had hardly left his lips before one of them slammed a fist onto the coffee table. I jumped, only just holding back the scream of surprise that rose in my throat. Altair flat out _snarled_ —which was probably the scariest thing I'd ever heard in my life, "Leave."

                That sound seemed to further solidify in my mind the fact that they _weren't_ human. Humans didn't make that sound.

                Apparently, I wasn't the only one who was terrified. The man paled, surprising considering how pale he already was, and rushed out of the door. Once again, I might have snickered if that snarl hadn't chilled me to the bone and, it dawned on me, they had drained their last blood slave.

                _Oh God._

                I suddenly felt dizzy and trapped. I subconsciously took a single step back.

                Altair was breathing heavy, anger still clear on his face, and, while they appeared calm, I could see the tension in the others' shoulders.

                It had never taken more out of me to speak. "You-" That one word felt like it weighed a ton; I almost thought I was going to faint the moment I said it. I was too drained to bolt for the door, even though freedom sounded better now than it ever had before.

                Simultaneously, they all seemed to force themselves to relax, I could only assume how horrified I must have looked, but if it was anything like I felt than that would explain how quickly they were able to relax.

                "We've never _drained_ anyone." Edward was the first to speak. I hated myself for believing him.

                "Our last blood slave was drained, but we had no part in it." Ezio growled out his part of the explanation with clear anguish.

                Jacob picked up where Ezio left off, "We know who did it, but trying to get revenge for a slave..." I could have taken that as an insult, but the undertone to his voice wasn't one of disdain.

                "What would happen if you did try?"

                All of them were quiet for a few moments, seeming to search for the right words. Desmond was the one who finally broke the silence. "Most vampires view humans as less. Generally, vampires are—no offense—smarter, stronger, and more capable than humans and most of our kind love to exploit that. They _might_ not kill us—a big might—but, if we tried to get revenge for a slave, they'd definitely kill all of you."

                "Is anyone going to mention that, no matter what we do, her life is in danger?" My head snapped in Altair's direction. "How long is it going to take for him to come after her?"

                I gulped.


	9. Chapter 9

"What do you mean? Why am I in danger?" My panic was reasonable. Vampires still seemed like a coma or fever induced dream, already, the situation was panic inducing enough—what with the whole blood slave situation—but now I was being told that there was a viable threat to my life, by someone other than them.

Some part of my mind—even through the pain of the brand and being bitten—must have been holding on to the chance that this was a dream. Maybe I was in a coma and the pain came from some reasonable outside source. Even being in a coma was explainable with what I'd been doing before I was kidnapped.

My breath sped up as the panic rose in my chest. Whatever I'd been holding to in order to keep from completely panicking was gone.

I was clearly beginning to have trouble breathing when Edward nudged me toward the couch and Ezio lightly pulled me down. The following couple of minutes consisted of me trying to breath while Ezio and Jacob—who was on my other side—tried to calm me down. I refused to look at Jacob—despite the terror rising as I lost my breath—so their attempts took longer than they would have otherwise.

It wasn't the first panic attack I'd had, but it was just as terrifying as always.

Finally, after what felt like hours, my breathing calmed. I could swear I heard a collective sigh from all of them. "We might not have been entirely honest about-"

Ezio quickly cut Connor off, "We're not the most popular among our kind."

That was the extent of the explanation of why my life was in danger. It was also—clearly—a lie by omission and I saw through it, but there was no way I was calling him out on it. It did raise more questions in my mind and, considering the arguing I'd heard between the others, I was inclined to believe they might just know the truth.

-

Jacob was a cuddler and, though I hated to admit it, I couldn't say I didn't like it. Still, he released his hold quite quickly when I rolled away from him. Good, no awkward explanations on where I was headed then.

I snuck out of the door as quietly as possible, bare feet patting softly against the hardwood floors as I made my way to the stairs and down to where I'd heard the conversation the night before.

My impromptu late night exploration of the house could easily be mistaken as me trying to escape, so I was on high alert. I could use any number of excuses, but none seemed reasonable for a mid-night venture through the mansion that I still hardly knew the layout of. I doubted they'd kill me, but the chance wasn't something I could completely push from my mind.

There was a third floor that I was still completely unaware of what it contained, not to mention the segmented basement that I'd only seen the mid portion of.

Those thoughts brought to mind questions of what could be the answer and my fear of them grew slightly stronger with the secrecy supplied. Still, what could be worse than the branding?

I didn't want to venture an answer to that question.

At that thought, I brought my hand back, hovering my palm over the area. Each of them offered their concerns over the brand, but they had to pin me if they wanted to assess the damage. It still felt horrid when my shirt brushed against it, let alone with them trying to bandage or treat it.

I'd learned my lesson on asking Kelly for information, especially on what I knew they didn't want me to know, but there were three people I had no qualms with threatening into telling me what I wanted to know.

I quietly stepped into one of the few rooms on the lower, right side of the house, below where Jacob's room would be. I searched the beds for any of the girls' familiar faces. I didn't see any of them until I checked the third room.

I made my way over to my look alike and quickly covered her mouth with my hand.

Immediately her eyes snapped open and her hands went to my wrist. "I need to talk to you." With that harsh whisper, I removed my hand, eyes narrowed. The only one who would be in trouble in this scenario would be me. Providing any of our masters knew of my past, it wouldn't be hard to convince them I'd come down here for a fight.

It wouldn't be hard to goad me into one either.

"What are you doing here?" Her response was more of surprise than the hostility I had expected. She seemed more disappointed about being awoken than angry, which I suppose I could understand.

"I want to know about them," my tone suggested no room for argument, "and why my life is in danger."

Immediately, fear crossed her face, "We're not-"

"I don't care!" My voice was louder than intended, but still only slightly above a whisper. "They won't know who told me."

"Do you think they won't find out? They'll make you tell them."

I'd be lying if I said the implications behind that didn't send a chill down my spine. I didn’t want that. I was still scared of them and whatever secrets they were keeping. There was no way I couldn't fear them when, not only were they vampires that bought me, I had visual evidence implanted in my mind that they came home covered in blood. "Look, just tell me why I'm in danger."

She let out a heavy sigh, throwing her blanket off and sitting up. "If it'll get you to go away." She glanced away. "You're really not supposed to know this. They think it will put thoughts on your head that you can beat them, just like her."

"Her? Their blood slave before me?"

"Her name was Julia." She sighed, a sad look crossing her face. "She was a good person. Better than most of us. A lot of us were snobs, still are, clearly, but Julia didn't care. She didn't care how long we'd been here or even if our families were still out looking for us. She was determined to get us home."

She shook her head. "She was different than us for more than her kindness, though. See, hundreds of years ago, vampires weren't the only "mythical" creatures that existed, but they were the smartest. While all the others were hunted to extinction, vampires never had much trouble avoiding the people trying to kill them. In a way, the hunters became supernatural themselves—probably from a few relationships with their prey here and there. Eventually hunters ended up being nearly completely wiped out, but a few survived."

She stopped there, probably assuming I could piece the rest together, which I could. "Julia was one, or related to one at least. So am I."

"When she found out, she ran as soon as she could. Somehow, in a stroke of pure luck she wasn't captured and she made to a town not far from here, tried to tell people about vampires. They thought she was crazy. Eventually, Connor dragged her back, kicking and screaming, but a few days later she was dead. Drained." She shuddered a bit.

"It sounds like I'll be fine if I don't do anything like that." I paused. "Did you know her very well?"

"She was my friend, but I was sadder that she hadn't succeeded than that she was gone. I felt horrible for it afterward, but I guess we can't all be selfless." She looked at the ground, avoiding any eye contact with me.

"I…" I rubbed the back of my head, glancing away from her, "I never got your name."

A smile crossed her face at my words, "Beth."

I returned the smile. "Kady." I held my hand out and she took it, still smiling.

Our smiles immediately vanished as footsteps sounded on the hardwood, clearly approaching the room we were in. I quickly dove for the floor and slid under the bed as she quickly laid down and wrapped herself in her blankets.

To my surprise, it was Desmond that entered the room, shirt open and looking none-to-pleased. He wasted no time in striding to the exact bed I was under and crouching down. "Kady."

Hesitantly I crawled from under the bed, avoiding his gaze. "Am I in trouble?" I gave him a sheepish look, knowing that the fear I felt was clear on my face.

He sighed after a moment before turning and beginning to walk from the room. "Come on." As he left the room, I hurried after him.

As he passed Jacob's room, I went to renter. "Better have a good excuse ready." He continued walking as I tensed. Crap.

I opened the door to be met with Jacob's form, sitting up on the bed. He didn't look angry, to my relief, just tired, and I could relate with that. "Where'd you sneak off to?"

I shrugged, certain he would know if I was lying.

"Long as you're not trying to run." With that, he sunk back down before motioning me over to him. Once I reached the bed he raised his arm for me to crawl under. I hesitated, but did so anyway. He'd end up wrapped around me in the morning anyway.


	10. Chapter 10

                My boots slammed against the ground as I ran away from the fenced in area I'd just vaulted out of. My family's dog barked behind me, assuming I was trying to play.

                One more fight and one more late night run that would no doubt end with bruised and bloodied knuckles. I couldn't have been more excited to make it to the meeting spot.

                "Look at that. Must've been a bad night. Mommy and daddy's arguing send the little girl crying again?"

                I gave the man an unimpressed look, rolling my eyes at his attempts to rile me up. "Shut up and hit me, Rob." He complied, beginning another normal night for the troubled kids in our town.

                Sure, some turned to drugs and alcohol, but there were a select few of us who took the pressures off our shoulders by beating each other half to death.

                Rob suddenly froze, shushing me and grabbing my wrists to prevent any more attacks. "Someone's coming." He whispered before letting go of me and running into the warehouse beside us along with his friends. I went the opposite way, hoping whoever it was went for the group rather than me.

                I wasn't entirely sure if I was being followed or my footsteps were echoing, but I was too terrified to check.

                My fears were confirmed as a searing pain exploded in my back. I was aware long enough to reach my hand back to feel whatever had hit me, but passed out nearly the moment I did.

—

                The rest of the week passed without much of interest happening. I hardly saw any of them and even ended up sleeping alone in Jacob's bed a couple nights. I wondered if that was common as well, but hoped not.      

                Something was bothering them. The mansion hadn't been filled with much tension, other than my own, since I'd arrived, one of the few things I used as an excuse to be getting comfortable. When they were worried, I could tell, even though it was a different tension than the one I had been raised around it was still similar.

                I was hardly aware a week had passed until Edward tossed an arm around my shoulders on-what I'd assume-was the following Sunday. "Looks like you're with me tonight."

                I tried to resist the tensing of my shoulders, but it didn't help.

                He immediately retreated, giving me space. "Sorry, love."

                The only touching I hadn't immediately jerked away from was Jacob wrapping his arms around me at night. While I was still scared of all of them, particularly now that it had really hit me that this was really happening, I did find comfort in that. I chose to blame that on the lack of physical affection I experienced even before being taken.

                Seeing healthy relationships everywhere got to me eventually, especially when I was down. Family and romance—both seemed to throw themselves in my face at every turn.

                Could anyone blame me for trying to forget the situation I was in to enjoy being held to his chest?

                I'd tried to forget my position for the entirety of the week following being bitten for the first time, but I obviously couldn't ignore it forever. All that stood out in my mind from the bite was the searing pain. If it always felt like that, I think I'd rather take my chances running off.

                He chanced trailing his fingers down my arm, before he was gone—I couldn't even tell which direction he'd taken.

                I wasn't looking forward to tonight.

                I'd become rather weak in just the week I'd been here. It wasn't that the food offered to me was bad, but food just didn't seem very appealing when my stomach was constantly in knots. I hadn't noticed how fatigued I was becoming until I tripped over the leg of a chair—not a bad trip, just a slight misstep—and collapsed to the floor.

                With a groan, I pushed myself to my knees before noticing the hand in front of my face.

                I gave Beth a skeptical look, not believing the act was one of legitimate kindness, until I noticed her accomplices looking beyond surprised. I took her hand and she pulled me up.

                "You should eat something."

                "I'm not hungry, but thanks." I gave her a tentative smile as her friends glared.

                "What are you doing?" The blonde hissed.

                I could feel my smile turn from tentative to mischievous as my eyes moved from Beth to the blonde. "How are you supposed to eat when you're so excited?" The insinuation of my words was clear on their own, but the emphasis made it all the clearer.

                What am I doing?

                Beth smirked at me as she held the girl back from attacking me. Well, at least I'd made another friend.

                Afraid of the vampires or not, I'd been tired of jealous girls since I entered middle school and my bitterness knew no bounds. I took a step toward the blonde and puffed myself up—not that it made me very intimidating, but that wasn't the point. The point was to look confident.

                I hadn't planned what to say, but before I knew it, the words had slipped out. "Are you really going to hit our masters' favorite pet?"

                Both of mine and Beth's faces dropped into a look of shock, while pure hatred burned in the blonde’s eyes. Had I actually said that?

                The girls were gone the moment a deep chuckle sounded behind me.

                Oh, God.

                "Keep acting like that and we might start to think you like us." I could not face him after that, there was no way.

                I rushed out of the room as quickly as possible, my face brighter than it had ever been before.

—

                I'd noticed that the large TV in the main room—probably one of the most glorious things in this mansion—hadn't been turned on since my arrival. I hadn't thought much about it until it was turned on only minutes after my embarrassing display.

                They thought I was settling in.

                I wasn't entirely sure why the TV had been kept off at first. Maybe because I'd been taken to somewhere farther from my home than I thought and they didn't want me to know where, maybe I was closer than I thought. Maybe they thought seeing the news story would set me off. All I knew was I'd never gotten so sentimental over an overplayed commercial before.

                I stayed back, though I doubt that they didn't know I was there. Edward and Altair were the only ones in the room, I didn't question the others' locations.

                Wouldn't you know it; the news was on. I was so grateful for the normalcy of it, that I sat through most of the cheesy local stories with bliss. It wasn't until the words "nationwide search" popped up that I actually began to pay attention.

                The story was about me, but I honestly didn't care about that—why have false hope in a situation I knew was hopeless? What I wanted to know is how they were reacting.

                I couldn't bear to look at my mom, for all her faults, she did her best and I didn't blame her for anything. My father on the other hand…

                I could feel my eyes turn cold as I saw him. He'd told me he wanted me gone after I'd brought up the fact that he was the reason for my anxiety. Clearly, he wasn't the cause, though I'd watched him treat my mother like garbage and hail himself as perfect for years.

                I had loved him out of obligation.

                For a terrifying moment, all fear left me as I felt glad to have been taken. It had been over a week since I'd been talked to like I was nothing more than a piece of garbage and, despite the pain, I'd rather deal with this week, repeatedly for the rest of my life than any week in that house for the past who-knows-how-many years.

                Whether they were lying or not, none of them had made me feel inferior, they even acted like they cared, and, though I felt sick for admitting it, I didn't want to leave.

                Then, the moment was gone and I darted from the room.


	11. Chapter 11

                "They assume you ran away." I hadn't met any of their eyes after hearing the news, in fact, I had avoided them as much as I could. How was I supposed to face anyone when I was _accepting_ my place?

                I was supposed to be a fighter and I had yet to try running even when they left us alone every night.

                I had wrapped my arms around myself after sitting on his bed, prepared to be bitten—or, at least, aware I would be—not interrogated about my life.

                "Is there a reason for that?"

                I didn't meet his eyes, but my head did raise a bit. There was an underlying tone of protectiveness to his voice, something I hadn't heard from anyone in years.

                Maybe, if my life hadn't been flipped upside down, my parents wouldn't have become so nonchalant about my safety and I wouldn't have become so distant. Maybe I wouldn't have ended up in this situation in the first place.

                I was never supposed to be a news story, those things happened to other people, not _me_. Then again, that's how the story always goes, isn't it? Not _my_ insignificant town in the middle of nowhere. Not _me_.

                "Not that I know of." I did meet his eyes as I spoke, pulling the most deadpan look I could muster and lying through clenched teeth. He didn't need to know, none of them did, they were just the monsters that had bought me.

                The monsters that my twisted brain wanted to stay with.

                I'd always known I'd snap one day.

                "That's a big leap to make with no reason." He paused, "That's enough to make people stop looking for you."

                That thought should have scared me, by the tone of his voice, that was exactly what he was trying to do. It should have, but it didn't. The fact that it didn't made me sick.

                I didn't realize the loud slam I heard was my foot slamming against the floor until I noticed the surprise on his face. "What's _wrong_ with me?"

                It had been a couple of days at least since I'd last broke into tears; enough to make me think I was done crying, until I felt the pressure behind my eyes. Why _didn't_ I want to go home? Why was my desire to see my family so weak? Why did this situation feel more secure than my home had for years?

                There was a mixture of confusion and concern on Edward's face. How was he supposed to know what I was talking about?

                "Why do I want to be here?" My voice cracked at the end. I was confused and—now that I had admitted it—embarrassed.

                There was a momentary look of triumph in his face until the breaking of my voice seemed to connect. He leaned over my form with a sigh, his hands landing by my thighs. I scooted myself back a bit before glancing up.

                "Why do they think you ran away?"

                I didn't understand what that had to do with my dilemma, but I had answered before I could shut my mouth. "Because I didn't want to be there anymore."

                "Why?"

                The bitterness had been building since the moment he'd started trying to dig into my past, the fact that he kept pushing the subject was only making me angry. What right did any of them have to know my past? "You're not my therapist." The words came out with a growl, "You don't need to know." My eyes narrowed.

                He shifted and I flinched, the anger fading as I remembered I was snapping at a vampire. "Fine."

                That was the end of the discussion. There was nothing said about my snapping or my clear avoidance of talking about my life. The room instantaneously began to feel suffocating as his eyes turned red.

                For a moment, he didn't move and I stayed frozen for fear of upsetting the delicate calm before the storm. My eyes trailed down to his fangs and, underneath the dread, some part of me found them attractive.

                What was _wrong_ with me?

                He didn't work up to biting me like Jacob had. Before I had a chance to even prepare, he had pushed me back, his body hovering less than an inch above my own. His fangs were embedded in my neck the moment my back hit the bed. He didn't cover my mouth either, but I was too taken aback to let out more than a confused groan.

                The feeling of blood being pulled through my veins didn't compare to their fangs breaking through the skin. The wound from Jacob's bite had already healed—something I would have loved to ask about, if I wasn't so uncertain how to word it—so Edward's fangs formed a completely new wound.

                It wasn't long before he removed his fangs and let me up.

                Again, unlike Jacob, he didn't pull me to his side or even try to convince me to lie with him. The tension in the room was my fault, but I wasn't apologizing.

                "I'm going to go find Kelly."

                "Fine."

-

                As I traveled toward the rooms the other slaves stayed in, hand over the holes in my neck, I glanced toward the door. I _needed_ to run. To prove to myself I wasn't completely insane, I needed to at least try.

                "Kady?"

                I jumped at the voice, turning my eyes away from the door as quick as possible. "Jacob! I was- I mean- I was just-"

                He glanced from me to the door a couple of times, "Aren't you supposed to be with Edward?"

                "I'm just... looking for Kelly." I didn't meet his eyes, I could tell he was considering saying something, but he decided against it.

                "Right," he glanced at the door again, "hurry up."

                I flinched at the tone. That was definitely an order.

-

                I slept on the couch, rather than hunting down Kelly and having to explain why I wasn't staying with Edward. There was no doubt in my mind that she would want to know why I'd gotten so snippy about, and I had no desire to talk about it. I was awake before any of them happened to find me—though, I was sure that Jacob had kept an eye on me after finding me staring at the door.

                I found Kelly and followed her around for most of the day—the same way I had avoided them last time. By the time they left that night, I knew Kelly knew something was wrong.

                "Don't do it."

                I wasn't surprised that she knew what I was considering. "Don't do what?"

                "I'm not stupid, Kady." She narrowed her eyes and placed a hand on my shoulder. "If anyone other than them catches you, they will kill you." 

                I shrugged her hand off, standing and taking a couple of steps toward the door. "You'd think that would matter more to me than it does."

                "Kady, _please_."

                "I'm sorry."

-

                For all the dramatics of me walking out of the door, it took way too long to figure out that the fence wasn't even electrocuted. I was almost disappointed I hadn't tried to run off earlier, but the pit in my stomach outweighed the disappointment.

                Who knew when they'd be home? I'd lost a fair amount of time staring uselessly at that fence as it was, I had no more time to waste.

                My feet pounded loudly against the ground and, if there were any vampires stalking around, they'd surly be able to hear my frantic heart and heavy breathing.

                Quiet.

                Quiet.

                I needed to be more-

                Suddenly I barreled out from the trees, tripping over the last bush in my path, the sudden openness of a road, bordered by the trees I'd run from and a field on the other side, shocked me into stillness. My chest was heaving as I panted trying to catch my breath.

                Hide.

                The sound of a car approaching was a threat that I hadn't expected to face. Kelly's words echoed in my head.

                _Hide_.

                Hide or you'll _die_.

                By the time I connected my thoughts with my body, it was too late, the car was hardly twenty feet away and the barren road gave no illusion to someone standing right in the middle.

                The car skidded to a stop as I dived into the field, which was probably the wrong decision. I ran along one of the rows before quickly shifting to the other, repeating the process until I saw more trees.

                I was breathing in dust through my mouth and my heart was slamming painfully against my rib cage as though it wanted to escape its confines. I could hear my heart in my ears and I was so dizzy from panic that I could hardly believe that I was still standing.

                I couldn't stop. They had to be right behind me. They had to be.

                I had only taken a few steps into the trees when I slammed into a body and fell back against another.

                God, I'd never screamed as loud as I had when he grabbed ahold of my wrists. I had been unconscious when I was first taken, this time I was nothing of the sort. I was going to die and I knew I was going to die.

                "We're not going to hurt you." The accented voice was calm, even as its owner clamped a hand over my mouth. The tears started as the back of my shirt was lifted enough for my brand to show.

                "Why am I not surprised?" A female voice spoke from behind me.

                "We should get her back." The man hoisted me up and tossed me over his shoulder. The moment he had me situated, I pulled my knee up and slammed it against his chest as hard as I could. If I was going to die, I wasn't dying easily.

                He fell back a bit, but caught himself before I could do much more than attempt to wiggle out of his grip. "Let me go!" I slammed my knee into his chest again and tried to aim for his face when that failed. He moved his arm from my back to my legs, pinning them against his chest and effectively stopping anymore attacks.

                I practically pouted the entire drive back to the place is just ran from. My newest captors ventured a few attempts to start a conversation, but I wasn't having it.

                There was no way I was getting away with this. The first time I'd tried to run, Jacob had held a blade to my neck and I hadn't even gotten that far.

                When their car pulled up in front of the mansion, I slumped down in the seat. Fear began to build in the pit of my stomach. If I hadn't made them angry before I had now.

                "Come on."

                I glanced at the two who had already stepped out of the car. Slowly, I slid toward the door. My eyes flicked toward the trees momentarily, but the woman grabbed my wrist before I could dart toward them. Not that it would have matter either way. They'd already caught me once and my chest was still rising and falling with more effort than usual.

                I hid behind the man as we walked to the door of the mansion, making myself as small as possible as the door opened.

                Kelly was the one who opened the door, immediately blowing my temporary cover. "Thank God!" She threw her arms around me, making me go rigid. I hadn't seen that coming.

                The moment was shattered when I heard one of them say my name.

                _Crap_.


	12. Chapter 12

                "Kady?" I flinched back as Altair reached for my arm, bumping into the woman behind me once again.

                "Evie?" Jacob's voice came from behind us, I snapped my head in his direction "Where'd you find her?" His eyes were cold when he glanced at me and I could feel goosebumps forming on my arms.

                While I was distracted, Altair grabbed my arm in a bruising grip and pulled me to him. His fangs lengthened as he made a move toward my neck. Less than a moment before he would have bit me—I could even feel his hot breath against my skin—he shoved me back, stepping farther back himself.

                At first, I didn't know what I'd hit that sent a piercing pain through my shoulder and resulted in a scream, albeit more strangled than it could have been, but a glance back revealed a thin nail sticking out of the wall. It had gone under my skin before my momentum had caused me to slide down and make it rip out.

                As soon as I had slapped a hand over the burning wound, Ezio slammed his hands against the wall beside my head. For a moment, I was confused as I'd expected the aggression to come from Edward or Jacob if anyone, but that honestly made it scarier. He grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him, “Are you trying to get yourself killed?" The snarl that came out with his words was enough to send me into hysterics, and he immediately let go.

                I sobbed out more than a few apologies, trying to make myself smaller against the wall with my eyes clenched. I could feel blood already drying on my hand, though I was still bleeding. I flinched away, almost falling to the floor when one of them touched me. I didn't realize it was Desmond until I opened my eyes, by then he was already nudging me toward another room.

                He nudged me into the bathroom and motioned for me to sit on the edge of the bathtub. "Why did you run?" He pulled a first aid kit and a rag from under the sink. He got it wet before sitting on the toilet seat. "This is going to hurt."

                "I don't know, honestly," the sarcasm was thick in my words, "It's not like I was kidnapped and then bought for my blood, is it? Oh, and—let's not forget—I _definitely_ don't have the lovely title of slave." I huffed and pushed his hand away before he had the chance to press the rag against the wound. What they were and why they had bought me weren't the only reasons, but admitting my fear of men—and my absolute astonishment that I was trusting my captors—didn't seem like something I'd be able to recover my dignity from. "Acting like you care doesn't change what you've done!"

                My shoulder was still burning, though the blood itself had seemed to stop.

                I truly expected Desmond to lash out at me, after all, I hadn't expected it from Ezio and he had, so mentally preparing myself seemed like the smart response. To my surprise, he just used his other hand to keep me from pushing him away and pressed the rag to the wound. I hissed as he cleaned the blood off the hole in my skin, trying and failing to break his hold on my arm before resorting to using my other arm. When I couldn't get him to budge, I let my arm fall back to my side and gritted my teeth.

                "That's believable enough," He met my eyes and I immediately turned away, "if my ability didn't tell me when people were lying."

                "What?" I squeaked out, before clearing my throat trying to defend my lie, "I don't see what else it could be." I huffed again," How does that even work? Now this is just getting unfair."

                "Neither do it. That's why I'm asking." He chuckled, "I'd like to know that myself."

                Silence engulfed the room, obviously not bothering him at all as he finished cleaning off my shoulder, but it very quickly and clearly got under my skin. "Because- because I didn't want to, alright?"

                He paused, surprise crossing his face. "You didn't want to run?"

                "No," The word came from between clenched teeth, "I figured maybe I had Stockholm syndrome. Still think I probably do. I thought I could prove to myself I wasn't losing it, or maybe once I got out I'd realize how stupid wanting to stay was." I was staring at the floor again, not wanting to let him see the self-disgust on my face. "And I figured if I got caught—even before Kelly warned me—I'd either die or you'd hurt me. Then I'd definitely want out of here."

                There was silence for a moment as he contemplated his next words, "Did it work?"

                My silence was enough of an answer on its own, my pathetic attempt at making him think it had only proved it farther, "He hurt me." It was true enough, there was no way I'd be going anywhere near Altair of my own volition anytime soon, even if he had only shoved me—hard, there would definitely be a few days of bruises and a sore back—he'd been far too close to biting me and I doubted he would have stopped to keep me alive as angry as he was. I knew anger like that, anger not even as bad, and if my father didn't bother to control it, why would some _vampire_ who had bought me? Still, some part of me wanted to say that it hadn't been nearly as painful as being driven away from people for fear I'd turn out as toxic as my life had become. Though the wound was painful, I also couldn't claim it was the worst physical pain I'd ever felt. Broken bones were far worse and I'd purposely put myself in the danger of those, not to mention, the brand had hurt far worse. The worse part of the wound was still being able to feel the nail go through my skin, something about it made me want to gag.

                I still wanted to be here rather than in the environment that had led to my distrust and anxiousness and I didn't know if I was more disgusted with myself or confused.

                He finished wrapping the wound without another word. "Come on."

**-**

                None of them so much as glanced in our direction when we entered the room and I knew that they'd heard what I'd said. I could read the uncertainty on their faces. I cursed their sense of hearing mentally and noticed the thus far unnamed man's lips twitch.

                I tried to stay on Desmond's far side, preferring to stay near the one person I knew wasn't mad at me—at least, not that mad—but he moved me to sit in between him and Connor. From the corner of my eyes I noticed that Altair looked beyond guilty, something I hadn't expected, but couldn't help but be satisfied by. I sent a cautious glance in Connor's direction before I sat down.

                I flinched when Desmond tossed an arm over my shoulders, avoiding my wound by less than an inch, but quickly relaxed into his touch. "Meet Evie Frye and Henry Green."

                I hadn't expected the subject to be shifted off my running, but I was grateful for it.

                "You're lucky they're the ones who caught you."

                Apparently, I'd thought too soon. He still sounded angry, but the snarl from earlier was gone.

                So began the long lecture of how I could have died. I nodded when it seemed appropriate, but the basis was "you're lucky you're alive" and "don't do that again". At some point after the conversation shifted from my running to something I couldn't help but zone out of, my head lolled to the side, against Connor's arm. I was _tired_ ; besides, I was still fatigued from lack of eating, not to mention, I had lost quite a bit of blood in the last twenty-four hours.

                He shifted, but, as I was about to move away, he wrapped his arm around my lower back.

                Really, there was no excuse for already falling back into my comfort. This venture was supposed to make me want to leave, yet, here I was, as comfortable as ever. The question returned to the forefront of my mind: what was wrong with me?

                Still, I'd already relaxed between Connor and Desmond, and my exhaustion was quickly getting the best of me. I let out a yawn as my head shifted from Connor's shoulder to Desmond's.

-

                I must have fallen asleep, as the next thing I knew Edward was offering to carry me upstairs. I wanted to protest, but I had no reasonable excuses. When he lifted me up, I quickly made myself comfortable against his chest.

                "I won't apologize." I was so tired that I wasn't sure if I'd said it or not, or if it had come out in full words. "I don't deserve this." But I wasn’t going do it again. Not for the pain, for the fear that I'd felt when I'd been running.

                "You're right. You don't." His voice was soft, which I hadn't expected.

                He laid me on the bed before changing and laying down beside me. I had fallen back asleep only moments after.

-

                For all the pain of went through in my life I'd never had many nightmares—the same went for this past week and two days—so, when I woke up from a nightmare, I was slightly more shaken than I would have been if I was used to them. Edward's form shot up just as quick as mine did, shaking me up more.

                "Easy, easy…" His arm wrapped around my shoulders and he pulled me closer to his side.

                At first I tensed, preparing to jerk myself away, but I thought better of it and relaxed, curling myself against his side. The nightmare hadn't been about them, after all. While trying to convince myself that I wanted to go home, my brain decided to make me dream about the fighting was a good idea.

                He was quiet, which I appreciated, I didn't want to talk about it. I still wasn't ready to admit why I'd been taken in the first place. I didn't want to admit that I'd come from a broken home and in turn was broken myself, even to them, _especially_ to them.

                "Was it about us?" He sounded guilty and I can't say it didn't please me at least a bit.

                Good. They _should_ feel guilty.

                Still, I shook my head to answer him. "No. None of you."

                The silence returned and soon after he'd leaned back, taking me with him, I realized he'd fallen asleep and I followed his example.


End file.
